


Half-Past Candlemas

by randi2204



Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe, Voltron: Vehicle Voltron
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4535295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That mistletoe had (barely) survived its journey from Earth, and he was going to <i>use</i> it, damn it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half-Past Candlemas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quillaninc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillaninc/gifts).



> Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron in all its incarnations. Only having fun.

The tinge of green and brown against the unrelieved grey of the corridor happened to catch Cliff’s eye.  He paused, studying the outcropping that shielded the door, then frowned and looked closer.

 

“What the hell...”

 

Finally, his curiosity got the best of him, and he stood in the recess, right in front of the door, staring up at the small sprig of greenery.  It looked rather like some kind of plant matter had been mutilated and the stringy bits wound through the grate covering the ventilation shaft to allow it to hang.  It was just big enough to peek down past the bottom of the overhang.  If one was walking down the corridor at speed, one was all too likely to miss it; it was that unobtrusive.

 

He stepped back, then leant against the wall next to the door, arms crossed over his chest, head cocked to one side, studying the plant fragment and trying to work out where he’d seen it before.  It seemed terribly familiar.  “How bloody irritating...”

 

A gust from the ventilation shaft caused the waxy green leaves to flutter, and there was a flash of something small and white, then it was hidden again.

 

But it was just enough to let him figure out what it was that dangled over the door.  He chuckled, shaking his head.  “Someone’s getting a little desperate, I guess.  I’ll have to razz him about it later!”

 

He was just about to continue on his way to the briefing with Commander Hawkins when the door opened behind him.  There was a sharp intake of breath and he felt the movement of air as someone stopped just centimeters short of crashing into him.  “Hey, what are you... Cliff?”

 

Grinning, Cliff glanced over his shoulder at the leader of the Air Team.  “Heya, Jeff!”

 

Knowing his second-in-command’s sense of humour, Jeff was immediately suspicious.  “What are you looking so smug about?” he asked, his tone wary.

 

Cliff feigned a hurt expression, and pressed one hand to his heart with one hand with a melodramatic sweep of his arm.  “Why, you wound me, mate, you really do!”

 

Jeff huffed at that, and ran a hand through his hair, further disturbing the unruly black curls.  “Why don’t I quite believe that?”

 

Cliff dropped his hand, grinning once more.  “I guess you know me too well, Cap’n.”  He nodded toward the overhang and the sprig of well-aged mistletoe hanging forlornly from the grate.  “You do realize, of course, that Christmas was over more than a month ago.”

 

Jeff blinked up at the mistletoe, and opened his mouth, about to protest that it wasn’t what Cliff thought when another breeze from the vent made the leaves quiver, exposing the white berries once more.

 

Cliff then had the rare treat of watching Jeff’s cheeks heat with an embarrassed flush, and couldn’t contain his laughter at the chagrined look his captain wore.

 

Looking at the floor, the wall, anywhere but at the mistletoe or Cliff, Jeff muttered, “Yeah, well... I just keep forgetting to take it down, that’s all.”

 

Still snickering, Cliff replied, “Well, if you leave it up much longer, it’ll be time to use it again...” Giving the greenery a considering glance, he added, “If it lives that long.”

 

Before Jeff could say anything more however, the PA system clicked to life, and Commander Hawkins’ deep voice echoed throughout the ship.  “Cliff and Jeff, would you _please_ report to the bridge for the briefing?”  He sounded slightly annoyed.

 

Cliff winced, wishing he hadn’t allowed himself to get so sidetracked, and turned to Jeff to suggest they get moving, but Jeff wasn’t there anymore.  He was already halfway down the corridor and moving fast.

 

“Come on!” he called, glancing back and seeing Cliff staring at him as if dumbfounded.  “Move it, Blondie, or you’ll be the one to eat the vegi-sauce.”

 

With a delicate shudder, Cliff broke into a run and just barely caught up with Jeff before he entered the bridge.

 

***

Inside his quarters, Jeff paced back and forth, looking at the door from time to time and quickly away.  Bulkhead, step, step, step, bunk, turn, step, step, step, bulkhead. 

 

The fact that his quarters weren’t big enough to _really_ allow a good pacing session only added to his irritation.

 

_Well, that... and one other thing._   Immediately, he chided himself for the very thought.  _The captain of the Voltron Force isn’t supposed to have_ this _problem!  The only problems I should have are fighting the Drules and coming back alive, and finding new inhabitable planets for the Alliance.  I should_ not _be distracted by... a cute... tight... butt._

 

“Argh!” Back at the bulkhead.  He leaned forward slightly and beat his head against the cold steel wall a few times.

 

It didn’t seem to help.  He was still just as sexually frustrated as he was before he began.

 

And since, out of the 15 people he had the most contact with, only three were women, (and one of the remaining 12 was his commanding officer), it left a rather clear view of his preferences.

 

After a final thump, he just let his head rest against the wall.  But only one of them had really driven him to this point.

 

His mother had thought she was being helpful, he knew, when she sent him the mistletoe.  However, Drule attacks had caused innumerable delays, and he had only just gotten her Christmas package the last time they had ventured back to Alliance space for supplies, less than a month ago.  The little sprig had not survived its trip through the vacuum of space very well, and the constant hot air from the ventilation shaft was certainly not helping it any.  All too soon, it would be completely unrecognizable—or dead—and he’d have to throw it out.

 

And he hadn’t even gotten to _use_ it yet.  _That_ was the real crime here.  That little bit of mistletoe had traveled across the galaxy, survived the less than tender mercies of the Alliance’s freighter crews, and now it was just going to go to waste.

 

“I _am_ going to kiss the next person who comes through that door,” he vowed.  “I don’t care.” And maybe _that_ would take care of the whole thing.  One kiss and he might not be troubled by yearning for...

 

It seemed then that Fate would lend him a helping hand; a soft buzz signaled that there was someone at the door to his quarters.  With a fervent prayer of thanks, he took the two steps necessary to reach the door, and touched the unlock button.

 

_Lips at the ready..._

 

“Hi!” Ginger waved cheerily, as perky and cute as always, and clearly oblivious to the problems her captain was having.

  
Jeff slumped.  _Except her.  God, I can’t kiss_ her _..._ He managed to summon a smile from somewhere.  “Hi, Ginger.”

 

Despite the image she cultivated, aided and abetted by her bubbly voice, Ginger was far from the stereotypical dumb blond.  Brows raising nearly to her hairline, she studied him for a moment, head cocked to one side, then lifted her gaze to the ventilation grate.  With a lopsided grin, she said, “Isn’t working, huh?”

 

Flushing, Jeff hurried her into his room, motioning and glancing furtively up and down the corridor.

 

“You look as suspicious as anything, you know that, don’t you?” she commented as she sauntered past him.

 

The door hissed shut and he sagged against it.  “Ginger...”

 

She sat down on his narrow bunk and leaned back on her hands, still grinning at him.  “Come on, Jeff.  No one’s going to notice that little tiny thing...”

 

Under his breath, Jeff muttered, “Not _that_ small...”

 

“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter!” she admonished and his blush deepened.  “The _mistletoe_.  No one’s going to notice it where you’ve got it.  I told you that when you hung it up there.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t want _everybody_ to notice it, either!”

 

She leaned forward, suddenly much more interested.  “Oh?  You’ve got someone _particular_ in mind?  Do tell!”

 

Jeff covered his face with his hands.  _I never should have mentioned it,_ he thought. _Never never never._

 

There was a soft thumping sound from the direction of his bunk.  Peering out between his fingers, he saw Ginger patting the mattress next to her, and her smile was probably meant to be inviting and cozy.  He retreated behind his hands again with a groan.

 

There are, he reflected, few things in the universe worse than a female friend determined to help a man with his love life.

 

***

“Y’know, Lisa me girl,” Shannon said doubtfully, “I’m thinkin’ this is not...”

 

With a strength belied by her slim frame, the dark haired girl tugged on his arm, dragging him a few more steps down the corridor in her wake.  “Oh, Shan,” she said, her tone playful and scolding all at once, “I told you!  It’s just a practical joke.”  She winked at him over her shoulder.  “Just tell him it was Cliff’s idea... he won’t get mad at _you_ , I promise.”

 

He said nothing more, but let her lead him down the hall.  His sense of fun, however, was intrigued by her reassurance that it was nothing more than a practical joke, and that _he_ wouldn’t get in trouble for it.  His lips curved and his step became a bit more eager.  _And wouldn’t it be nice, after all...?_

 

Glancing back at him once more, she saw his impish grin and smiled.  _Just a few more steps, boyo,_ she thought, mimicking his Irish accent.  _And then..._ It was very hard to stifle the laughter that wanted to bubble forth.

 

Then she stopped, right in front of the portal to Jeff’s quarters.  “You ready?” she whispered.

 

Shannon nodded, but he wasn’t smiling anymore.  Seeing this, Lisa gave him one of her gentle smiles and patted him lightly on the shoulder.  “You’ll be fine,” she murmured.

 

He nodded, relaxing slightly.  As she turned away, though, he could have sworn that her smile became a wicked grin, and he stared after her as she ran back the way they had come and ducked around a corner.  Shaking his head, he turned to Jeff’s door and raised his hand to touch the buzzer.

 

Ginger peeked around the corner, feeling Lisa leaning over her, her friend’s long hair tickling her cheek.  “Go on, Shan, go on... yes!” She pumped her fist in the air as Shannon pressed the buzz plate.  Grinning hugely, she looked up at Lisa and was met by a matching grin.  As one, they turned their attention back to the scene they’d engineered.

 

As they did, Ginger reflected that it was a good thing that Jeff was such an able pilot and leader that they usually won their battles, or were at least able to escape; he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

 

***

The only excuse that Jeff had for not opening the door the instant the buzzer sounded was that he was expecting it so hard that it startled him.  He jumped, heart pounding loudly in his ears, and wished he’d been able to say something, _anything_ to discourage Ginger from her plan.  His hand missed the unlock plate on the first two tries, but managed to hit it on the third.

 

The door whirred open, and Shannon was framed in the doorway.  Somehow, Jeff managed to keep his voice steady, despite the way it seemed to want to rise into an inappropriate register.  “Hi, Shannon...”

 

“Heya, Jeff.”

 

He let his eyes rove quickly over the other, admiring what he saw, as he always did.  They were of a height, and Shannon’s hair was black, too, but that was where the similarities ended.  Shannon was built just a bit less solidly than Jeff himself, which made him look both thinner and taller.  His hair was cut short—it was just long enough to make Jeff long to run his fingers though it—and his eyes were sea-blue, bright and dancing with nearly irrepressible good humor.

 

Right now, though, he was looking over Jeff’s shoulder... no, looking _up_ , at the inside frame of the door, his brow quirked in a puzzled frown...

 

His brain kicked into gear then.  _Hello! Shannon is_ standing under the mistletoe! _Now’s your chance!_

 

Finally, Jeff shook off his paralysis and reached out.  Startled at the sudden movement, Shannon glanced away from his perusal of the doorway, but before he could react further, Jeff had wrapped his arms around him, one hand cradling the back of his head, and captured his mouth in a very demanding kiss.

 

And Jeff promptly lost himself in it.  A feeling of lightheadedness, of the complete _unreality_ of the kiss swept over him.  It couldn’t be real—Shannon’s mouth _wasn’t_ opening beneath his, his tongue _didn’t_ taste of oranges, and it _wasn’t_ twining with his own, drawing it into his mouth...

 

Was it? 

 

Jeff desperately hoped that it _was_ real, that he wasn’t just imagining the fingers threading through his tangled curls, or the warm body curving into his.

 

When the need to breathe finally caught up with him, he broke the kiss reluctantly.  Stunned by what he’d done, by the lack of air, by the ardent response he’d imagined getting, he simply closed his eyes, let his forehead rest against Shannon’s, and tried to recover himself, panting.

 

It took a moment or two for him to realize that yes, there were fingers stroking through his hair, that there was a body pliant against him, that Shannon had not pulled away.

 

Then Shannon chuckled, the sound rich and intimate in the sterile hallway, and it reverberated through him, reaching into places that he never had known he’d had.

 

Breath hot against his lips, Shannon said, “And here I thought Christmas was over for the year...”

 

Then he pulled away, his hands sliding from Jeff’s hair, and Jeff reared back, surprised by the sudden motion.  His heart sank at the loss of contact between them.

 

But Shannon was grinning at him, that familiar, infectious curve of his lips tempting him.

 

“That was a hell of a present you just gave me, though.”

 

Jeff opened his mouth at Shannon’s words, but no sound came out.  “Was... was it?” he managed at last.

 

Shannon nodded, his eyes twinkling.  “But out here in the corridor is really not the place to be giving such presents.”  He inclined his head toward the open door that Jeff was still standing in.  “Maybe... we can exchange more presents inside?”

 

Jeff could only stand, staring at Shannon, and hoping that the universe was not just playing a cruel joke on him.  That sense of unreality was back with a vengeance.

 

His doubt must have been plain on his face, too.  Shannon’s expression softened, and he lifted a hand to run a finger lightly over Jeff’s kiss-tender lips, sending shocks of sensation down his nerves.  “I wouldn’t kid about this, Jeff,” he said, and the serious tone sounded so wrong coming from him.  “I’m not playing with your feelings here... or with mine.”

 

At that, the sense that everything had been turned sideways disappeared, and Jeff relaxed.  Stepping back, he beckoned Shannon to enter his room.  “Please... come in.  I would like to talk to you some more...”

 

Shannon brushed up against him as he followed Jeff into his quarters, an instant of contact that made them both shiver.  “Can I sit on your lap, too... Father Christmas?”

 

For a second, Jeff just gaped at him, dumbstruck by the words, then he took in the wicked grin Shannon wore.  Blushing, smiling shyly, he replied, “Only if you’ve been good...”

 

***

February 12, 2005

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for my dear [Quillaninc](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillaninc/), through a request she'd put up on a livejournal community that is now, sadly, mostly-defunct. Her request was for a Vehicle Voltron xmas themed fic. I did my best.


End file.
